A Reset Doesn’t Require Perfection—It Requires Honesty
The end of the year always arrives with the same invitation: make resolutions. Set goals. Build the next version of yourself.
But before you rush into planning what’s next, what if you paused long enough to ask what’s true? Shine a light onto the past year to see what really worked. And what didn’t.
Because the most powerful goals don’t come from chasing “more.” They come from understanding what actually fills you—and what quietly drains you.
This year, before you write your resolutions, try asking yourself these four questions. Not to judge yourself, but to see yourself more clearly.
1. Do I actually love the process? Not the payoff—the everyday reality.
We’re taught to focus on outcomes. The promotion. The finished project. The applause.
But what about the daily moments in between?
Do you enjoy the rhythm of your mornings? The tasks that fill your afternoons? The people you spend your time with?
Sometimes we build entire lives around goals we thought we wanted, only to realize we don’t actually like the work required to maintain them.
Nature teaches us this truth in reverse. A tree doesn’t grow toward an outcome—it grows because the conditions support it. Sunlight, water, roots in good soil. The tree doesn’t force itself to be taller. It simply thrives when its environment allows it.
What if the same were true for you?
Journal Prompt: Close your eyes and picture a typical Tuesday. What part of your day makes you feel alive? What part makes you sigh with heaviness? Notice where energy flows—and where it stalls.
2. What stole my energy this year that I need to minimize? Be specific. Name it.
Burnout doesn’t usually come from one catastrophic event. It comes from a hundred small energy leaks we never plug.
Maybe it’s not the work itself—it’s the meetings that go nowhere. Not the relationship—it’s the constant need to perform. Not the hobby—it’s the expectation you placed on it.
Getting specific matters.
When you name what drains you, you stop letting it hide in vague feelings of exhaustion. You reclaim your power to say no.
Think of water wearing down stone. One wave? Nothing. A thousand waves over time? The stone reshapes entirely.
What has been slowly reshaping you this year—and is it shaping you into someone you recognize?
Journal Prompt: Write down three things that consistently left you feeling depleted this year. Don’t judge them as “good” or “bad.” Just name them. Then ask: What would it feel like to do less of this in the year ahead?
3. What lit me up that deserves more space in my life? Also be specific.
This one is just as important—and often harder to name.
We’re conditioned to notice what’s wrong. The squeaky wheel. The problem to fix. But joy? Energy? Aliveness? Those things whisper.
Maybe it was the mornings you walked outside before the world woke up. The afternoons spent lost in a creative project. The conversations that left you feeling seen. The moments when time disappeared and you forgot to check your phone.
These aren’t luxuries. They’re clues.
They’re showing you where your soul feels most at home.
A bird doesn’t question which branch feels right to land on—it simply knows. Your body knows too. You just have to listen.
Journal Prompt: Think back to three moments this year when you felt fully alive. What were you doing? Who were you with? What conditions made that possible? How can you create more space for this in the year ahead?
4. Am I pursuing what truly matters to me? Or just chasing “more”?
This is the question that changes everything.
Because “more” is easy to chase. More income. More productivity. More recognition. More control.
But more of what? And for whom?
Somewhere along the way, many of us stopped asking what we truly want and started optimizing for what we think we should want.
We mistake motion for meaning. Busyness for purpose. Achievement for fulfillment.
Nature doesn’t do this. A wildflower doesn’t bloom bigger to prove its worth. It blooms because that’s what it’s meant to do. It grows toward light, not toward approval.
What would your life look like if you stopped building toward “more” and started building toward “true”?
Journal Prompt: If you could design the next year of your life based solely on what feels most aligned with who you are—not who you think you should be—what would change? What would you stop doing? What would you start?
A Reset Doesn’t Require Perfection—It Requires Honesty
You don’t need to have all the answers before the new year begins.
You don’t need a perfect plan, a detailed vision board, or a flawless strategy.
You just need to tell yourself the truth.
The truth about what’s working. What’s not. What lights you up. What weighs you down.
Because the most powerful transformations don’t come from forcing yourself into someone else’s version of success. They come from gently returning to yourself—again and again—until your life starts to reflect what you actually value.
Nature resets every season. Not because it failed. Not because it needs to be better. Simply because it’s time to shed what no longer serves and make space for what wants to grow.
You’re allowed to do the same.
Begin With Stillness, Then Move Forward
Before you set your goals for the new year, give yourself permission to pause.
Step outside. Sit with the sky. Let the quiet of winter—or the warmth of the sun—remind you that growth doesn’t happen all at once.
It happens in small, steady movements.
One honest question. One clear boundary. One intentional choice at a time.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to begin where you are.
Journal Prompt for the New Year:
What would this year feel like if I built it around what truly matters to me—not what I think should matter?